


I in Time Will Come

by campylobacter



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Crack, F/M, Hell, Humor, M/M, Non-Graphic Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-04-16
Updated: 2004-04-16
Packaged: 2017-10-09 14:18:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/campylobacter/pseuds/campylobacter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>CSM's afterlife proves unsatisfactory. Set after "The Truth".</p>
            </blockquote>





	I in Time Will Come

**Author's Note:**

> Lyric Wheel "Beginnings" Challenge; ogan supplied the rather sinister lyrics.

Ever since my arrival, I have enjoyed romantic dinners with The Prince of Darkness. He woos me with a Cabernet of startling vintage, a bouilliabase of extraordinary creaminess, and a beef   
tartar of exceeding bloodiness. The music is furnished by Nicolo Paganini himself -- and a guitarist -- within a dining hall decorated in Italian Rococo. Not a speck of ash or particle of soot mars the gleam of the ornate gilt armrests, despite my unending supply of cigarettes.

With the blink of an eye, Lucifer transfigures Himself into forms I find pleasing, and we disport ourselves in view of mirrors that reflect every angle and moment of our innocent   
gambols.

In the mirror at the headboard, I, with the supple skin of youth, receive the mouth of Teena, also in her youth.

In the mirror at the footboard, Dana admits me into her hindmost orifice.

In the mirror at my right, Alex smiles as he is crossed in ropes of my pearly seed.

In the mirror at my left, Samantha.

As with all activities repeated throughout a millennium, I grow bored, and ask a boon of my Beloved: May I return to the World anew, on the promise of returning once more to this unhallowed demesne?

His handsome features fall in despair. "Ask not this of me! You would leave me alone, bereft, undone! What surety have I that you will return to me? Colors change for no good reason,   
and words will go from poetry to prose."

I cajole, wheedle, assure Him that He will keep my soul, that never shall I be within hope of redemption, while I tend to unfinished business.

He relents, perhaps too quickly. "The womb of either Dana, who was called barren, or of Marita, will quicken -- choose but one."

"If Marita, then who the sire?"

"Alex, undoubtedly."

"But how? He dwells here, two-armed."

"Nay; I granted his return to the moment of his death. He thrives now, one-armed, to harry Mulder, as ever."

I choose to re-enter the World through Marita, for Dana too readily surrenders her offspring to strangers. As for my fickle Beloved, I beseech Him to attend my return, to recognize me in   
whatever flesh I assume, to enfold me once more into His infernal arms after my next lifetime.

No sooner have I pledged Him to me, than I find myself suspended in liquid, then compressed, then slapped upon the rump to once more expand my lungs with the empty fullness of air. Naked, I lie at Marita's breast, and suckle her warmth in mammalian ecstasy.

I begin to realize that although I sup with the Devil, Alex Krycek has breakfast with Him.

**Author's Note:**

> "Not Myself"  
> by John Mayer
> 
> Suppose I said I am on my best behavior  
> And there are times I lose my worried mind
> 
> Would you want me when I'm not myself?  
>  Wait it out while I am someone else?
> 
> Suppose I said [colors change for no good reason  
> And words will go from poetry to prose]
> 
> Would you want me when I'm not myself?  
>  Wait it out while I am someone else?
> 
> And [I, in time, will come] around  
> I always do for you
> 
> Suppose I said you're my saving grace?


End file.
